My travel this year means that my carbon
footprint will be approximately double that of the average person in Britain,
which is around 14
tonnes of CO2 or its equivalent per annum. Like many readers of Transformation I
believe that we should seek to align our daily lives with our political views
and values. So is it hypocritical of environmentalists to fly?

Not necessarily: in fact I’ve come to
see critiques of flying as sometimes misguided and even counter-productive.
That's because not flying isn’t an
effective way for me to combat the causes of environmental degradation and
climate change. Here are three reasons why.

Beyond the ideology of 'one by one'

The assumption of most current
environmental advocacy is that the best way to reduce carbon emissions is
through changes in our personal behaviour. But significant reductions can only
come about through political activity that transforms the economic systems that
drive up pollution. The limited impact of voluntary action by individuals is
highlighted by household electricity consumption in the UK, for example, which
has been targeted by government, charities and business. These emissions
account for about seven percent
of the UK total.

Comprehensive measures to reduce
electricity consumption could bring these emissions down by 30 percent per household.
But despite strong efforts over two decades, only a small percentage of people
have achieved this target, and research shows
that about half of them spent the money they saved on products or activities
that had similar or even bigger carbon footprints. So the net impact on UK
carbon emissions is probably less than one percent. That’s why we need more
emphasis on policy frameworks that reward investments in renewable energy, more
efficient electrical appliances, and taxes that increase the costs of producing
energy from fossil fuels like coal.

My argument isn’t that there’s no point
in reducing personal carbon emissions, nor that in some unknown way such
personal actions wont positively affect
a ‘collective field’
as author Charles Eisenstein puts it; it’s that focusing on this approach can
distract attention from exploring other solutions that really matter. And that
takes me to reason number two: it’s not how much carbon you use but what you do
with it that counts.

So what do you do with your carbon?

At the heart of the claim that it’s
hypocritical to fly is the idea that everyone should have the same carbon
footprint, but that makes no sense. What about ambulance drivers, or firemen,
or members of the armed forces?

If flying is acceptable for them, then
why not for activists? My own work focuses on promoting more effective
leadership on sustainable development, including the systemic drivers of
climate change like misplaced investments and destructive monetary
systems. The travel I do is crucial for that work.

Hypothetically, I might even spend a
year on a jumbo jet if it would help to secure a global agreement on carbon
taxes that could be connected to trade treaties and enforced by the World Trade
Organisation (WTO), since that could shift personal consumption patterns
dramatically. If phased in while other taxes on income are reduced, a carbon
tax would dramatically raise the price of air travel and thus have an overall
impact on emissions in that sector.

The need to think as citizens not
consumers

Third, the effects of green critiques of
flying may actually be insidious, because they frame environmentalism only in
terms of restraints. Think of ubiquitous messages to turn off lights, separate
your rubbish, and avoid eggs from factory farms. These are all good things, but
the dominant theme is very clear: everyone should discipline themselves for the
greater good.

The most sophisticated expressions of
this view applied at a societal level are found in books on the ‘steady-state’
economy like Enough
is Enough, but such arguments aren’t so useful in helping us to get
there. That’s because their underlying message is about limits, rather than
achieving greater personal expression or new collective freedoms. It’s these
more positive and liberating messages that are missing from mainstream
environmentalism, and that’s important because they are what’s required to
trigger transformation.

To renounce worldly goods and
experiences is an interesting spiritual path for some, but throughout human
history it has been adopted by very few. Mass political movements nearly always
mobilise around securing greater freedoms for more people. So what might a
freedom-based environmental activism look like in practice?

Through my own
work on contemporary capitalism I’ve come to see that people are restrained
from harmonious living with each other and the environment as a result of the
economic systems they inhabit. We all experience the fundamental ‘un-freedom’
of having to compete for scarce bank-issued money in order to service our
unending debts. Viewing environmentalism as a struggle by citizens for greater
freedom from mainstream monetary systems and the delusions they propel holds
much more promise than a movement of guilty consumers who quibble over the
details of carbon footprints.

The seeds of such a movement are already
present in groups like Grassroots
Economics, which is creating autonomous local currencies in slums across
Africa that help to insulate low-income families from boom-bust financial
cycles; in the ‘social’ and ‘solidarity’
economies that are spreading across many countries; and in ‘intentional
communities’ that offer the potential for living
together without the need for large salaries and inequalities.

In a recent lecture I describe
activities like these as forms of “freedom with” rather than “freedom from,”
responding to the reality that we must work together if we are to liberate
ourselves from exploitative systems. But this aspect of freedom through
collective action is often marginalised in public discussions because
individualist notions of freedom as self-expression are so dominant in liberal
societies.

To be effective, these seeds of
environmental freedom have to grow dramatically. And that may require more flying, not less, so that people
can learn from, support and connect with each other. Even participants in the Global Ecovillage Network recognize the
value of such exchanges, with some members meeting in an international
conference every year.

Just as those driving to protest a new
runway at Heathrow Airport don't turn back because of the carbon that’s
involved in their journeys, most people understand that they are public beings,
citizens engaged in change and not just responsible consumers. Reviving our
self-identity as active
citizens
is a key challenge of the times.

Authenticity is not always obvious

On the face of it, criticising those who
fly is an obvious target for those concerned with climate change. But protests
against flying per se can displace
attention away from actions that could transform societies and reduce carbon
emissions at the necessary scale. They may reinforce assumptions that changing
personal consumption habits is a more important goal than working together as
politically active citizens for fundamental changes in our political and
economic systems.

Does this mean that we should not seek to reduce carbon emissions in
our own personal lives? No—so long as we’re aware of the things that would have
most impact, like having fewer children in the West or choosing a job that
doesn’t promote relentless consumption. Carbon reduction initiatives from
employers are also welcome, including those from travel. But even the best of these actions
shouldn’t be allowed to distract attention away from the broader and deeper
shifts that are required for systemic, long-term change.

I was triggered to reflect on these
issues by private criticism, but their implications should be a matter for
public debate on the ethics of flying that explores both the intention of the
flyer and the outcome of the flight. It should also explore the ethics of a
growing discourse against flying
among activists, in particular the consequences of those critiques. As the New
Internationalistonce
wrote “What would happen to a world in which the only people who travelled
by plane were those most committed to its rapacious exploitation?”

In my case, the conclusions that I've
reached on whether or not to fly create more self-scrutiny, not less. Is my
theory of change good enough? Am I making a tangible impact? If my doubts on
these questions increase, then an authentic response will be to slow down, stop
flying and allow a new approach to emerge in my life.

But for now, deluded or not, I'll fly.
If you’re creating alternative economic models or self-sufficient communities,
then please fly when you need to. And if you’re challenging exploitative corporate
and banking power that stretches across international borders? Carry on flying.

About the author

Dr Jem Bendell is a Professor at the University of Cumbria, specialising in leadership, strategic communications and digital currencies in the context of disruptive climate change.

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